


A Matter of Principle

by Busby_Lost_Marbles



Category: Call the Midwife
Genre: Modern AU, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:28:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13929957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Busby_Lost_Marbles/pseuds/Busby_Lost_Marbles
Summary: Lucille Anderson, Poplar librarian, meets Valerie Dyer one Saturday morning campaigning for an issue of importance to her.





	1. Chapter 1

Lucille hastily shoved a packet of avocado into her shopping bag, increasingly aware of the people behind her at the supermarket checkout giving her frustrated looks and huffing as she struggled to open the next plastic bag to put the rest of her groceries in. Damn static plastic bags. She made a mental note to herself to remember her reusable bags next time- maybe it would not only save the environment but also a little dignity for herself as she packed her shopping away.

After what felt like an eternity and several dirty looks from other customers, Lucille finally had her shopping in her bags and hurried to the exit of the shop. It had been quite a week, and she was exhausted- they’d been changing the classification of books in the library to the Library of Congress System, and as well as Lucille knew it, she still had a strong preference for the Dewey Decimal system. It had meant rearranging a lot of books and she was feeling achy still, and was looking forward to spending her day off in a nice soothing bath with essential oils, and of course, a good book.

Lucille was snapped out of her daydreams by a tall, slim woman holding a clipboard.

“Hi, sorry to bother you. Do you have a minute to talk about the closure of the Iris Knight Institute? The council want to sell it off to some developer to tear it down and build luxury flats but we think it has such value as a community centre, and is a constant in the lives of so many people who might be otherwise deprived. Would you be able to sign our petition?”

Lucille stopped for a moment, taking in the woman’s short, tousled dark hair, and earnest expression. She wanted nothing more than to get home and put her feet up, but she did feel for this kindly lady.

“Of course, may I use a pen?” Lucille beamed at the woman who seemed visibly relieved. “Out of curiosity, would you not be better off launching an online petition? Then you wouldn’t have to stand in the cold.”

“Ah, yes, we do have one on Change.org, but the community centre matters a lot to the elderly, who might not know how to access it on the internet, so this makes it easier, and we can catch them on their Saturday morning shop. We haven’t gotten a lot of signatures yet, though. Do you know the Institute at all?”

“Yes, actually, I work at the library, when it was being renovated recently we had a little book van parked outside to act as a small replacement for 6 weeks. It wasn’t ideal but they were very kind to let us use the space, and we got some decent footfall. They seemed to have lots of great initiatives.”

The other woman straight up beamed at her.

“They really do! I’m a district nurse and midwife, and we run lots of things in that place. There are coffee mornings for the senior club, the annual cub play, we also run various youth clubs, and at the moment we are trying to get a sex ed class for girls that are 14+, to try to tackle teen pregnancy in the area and make sure that young women have information that they might not get otherwise so that they can make informed decisions.” The woman stopped to catch breath, visibly slightly flustered at being allowed to talk for so long. “I’m sorry, I’m just rambling now, but I do feel passionately about the future of this place. I used to have ballet classes there as a girl, and it just helps so many young people who could otherwise be in vulnerable positions, and the elderly too. There’s a lot still to be done there.”

Lucille smiled kindly at this woman, who did make some compelling arguments. She signed the sheet on the clipboard proffered.

“I know what you mean, I feel quite the same about services like the library- there are parallels to be drawn there, I suppose, we deal with a lot of young people too, trying to help them get information on their future career pathways, or sometimes just provide kids with an escape from daily life with a good book. It’s incredibly rewarding.”

The woman nodded, and took back her clipboard.

“You’re quite right. It’s a pity the government doesn’t see local community as a priority, I think there’s a lot to be said for it.” She sighed. “Anyway, I shan’t keep you. Have a lovely weekend, and thank you for your support!”

Lucille bid the woman goodbye, and made her way to the place where she had attached her bike. After purchasing The Big Issue from the man outside the supermarket (making sure he kept the change) she made her way to the bike rack, placing her shopping bags in the bike basket, then proceeding to unlock the bike. It was a bit fiddly because there was another bike that had been parked right next to it, and the pedals had gotten stuck, and just when Lucille thought that she had managed to untangle it…

CRASH. The bike toppled and Lucille could hear a distinct smash as her shopping bags fell out of the bike basket and hit the concrete. Oh dear, there went the olive oil. Blooming typical.

As she bent down to try to salvage what she could of her shopping, Lucille was startled by a someone nearby.

“Are you alright, there?” called a voice that Lucille remembered belonging to the kindly community centre woman. Lucille turned with such a start that she managed to cut her hand on a shard of the broken olive oil bottle.

“Ouch! Oh, I’m sorry, yes, I’m alright, I’ve just managed to drop my shopping and made a bit of a mess of things, it’s really stupid.” Lucille babbled. Damn, her hand really did sting.

The petition woman rushed over to her side immediately.

“Let me give you a hand! Watch, there’s broken glass, you might…” She faltered slightly. “Oh, looks like you’ve cut yourself, your hand is bleeding. Can I take a look?”

Lucille smiled weakly and nodded. It was turning out to be one of those days. She watched the other woman as she took her hand, looking to see if she’d gotten any glass fragments into the cut, which was quite deep and bleeding quite a bit. The other woman let go of her hand to grab a first aid kit from her rucksack (how handy that she was a nurse!). Lucille watched fascinated as the nurse cleaned her hand, furrowed her brow, applied some disinfectant and bandaged it. She was the very image of efficiency

“You’re not going to need stitches, but you do need to make sure that it doesn’t get infected. Keep an eye on it but I think you’ll be fine. Now, let’s help you save what you can of your shopping.”

The two women set about clearing away the smashed glass (though the nurse was reluctant to let Lucille touch more of it, lest she cut herself again), and luckily the rest of the groceries more or less intact. Once everything was cleared away, both women stood looking at each other, not quite knowing what to do or say next, Lucille twiddling her thumbs and the other woman rocking on the balls of her feet. Eventually, in an effort to break what had become a slightly awkward silence, Lucille spoke.

“That was really kind of you, you really didn’t have to help. Thank you…” she paused. “I’m afraid I don’t know your name?”

“Valerie Dyer,” the nurse extended her hand to shake Lucille’s non-injured one and beamed at her. “Though most people just call me Val”.

Lucille took Val’s hand.

“I’m Lucille Anderson. Thank you so much for helping me, Valerie. I hope your petition gets lots of signatures. I’ll share the Change.org version on Facebook!”

“That’s lovely of you, thank you. Have a lovely day, and remember, make sure your hand doesn’t get infected!” Val smiled, squeezed Lucille’s shoulder, and turned back to the supermarket.

And as Lucille got onto her bike to head home, she had the strangest feeling that she didn’t quite want to say goodbye to Val just yet.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Trix, I’m home!” Val called to her flatmate, as she tossed her keys on the mantelpiece, threw off her jacket, kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the sofa.

“Well, this is a pitiful sight, Valerie!” tutted Trixie, picking up the jacket and shoes and hanging the keys on their designated hook. “You might want to be a bit tidier, you know Patsy gets back from Paris today, and she’ll simply have a fit if she sees this mess!”

Val straightened up, grinning at the thought of their maniacally clean flatmate. “I dare say she’ll have some rose-tinted goggles on. Not only is she just back from la belle France but, well…” Val lowered her voice conspicuously, “do you think she’ll have had the bottle to propose to Delia, finally?”

Trixie beamed, always a sucker for a bit of romance. “Well, we haven’t heard anything but Pats is so old fashioned she’d want to tell people in person, we’d never see a status on Facebook announcing it. She wouldn’t even ring us, I bet. But, I mean, she must have done! We know glaciers move fast compared to Patsy but I think she really was meaning to this time.”

“And Delia will be avoiding calling anyone because she’d feel like it was lying if she didn’t mention it… I mean this is their third European getaway and we really thought that would be it when they went to Rome last summer!” Val chuckled, exasperated. “We know she will eventually but Delia must be exasperated!I mean nothing is stopping her from asking either but she’s probably worried Patsy has some kind of elaborate plan, which she probably does, and doesn’t want her to be miffed if she beats her to it. Agh, these useless lesbians!”

“I mean you definitely relate to that, don’t you, Val?” Trixie nudged Val playfully. “Any romance on the horizon for you?”

Val snorted. “As if!” then she thought about Lucille, the lovely woman she’d met this morning, who was probably very straight, and sighed. Agh. Time to change the subject. “How about your Chris? How is he?”

Unfortunately, Trixie picked up on Val’s evasiveness immediately.

“Hey! Valerie Dyer, you are not getting out of a conversation about your love life that easily. You’ve met someone, haven’t you? Oi, quit shaking your head, you’re blushing. You absolute liar, your ears are beetroot. Spill!” Trixie started nudging Val insistently. “Come ON, it has been ages since I’ve been able to meddle. Let me meddle, for Christ’s sake!”

Valerie groaned, burying her head in a sofa cushion amid Trixie’s chants of “Spill! Spill! Spill!” She finally relented when Trixie resorted to rhythmically hitting her with a cushion.

“Fine! Though for the record, it really is nothing. I just talked to a girl when I was getting people to sign the petition outside the supermarket today and she was absolutely gorgeous, probably straight and just adorable and I’m probably never going to see her again. It’s no biggie.”

Trixie gasped. “It is, though! Tell me everything. In fact come to the kitchen, I’ll make a pot of tea and you can serve it so that you’re literally giving me the tea.”

So over a cup of tea, Val told Trixie everything. She allowed herself to gush about the woman’s lilting Jamaican accent, her gorgeous smile, the fact that she worked at the library, how she bandaged her hand, and recounted all the events of the morning.

“But I’m never going to see her again so it doesn’t really matter, I suppose.” Val shrugged.

“It absolutely does! Lucille Anderson, you said her name was? Let’s have a look…” Trixie brought out Val’s iPad, typed in the passcode with ease, and opened Facebook.

“How the hell do you know my passcode?”

“It’s your date of birth, you numpty!” Trixie dismissed her with a wave of her hand. “Now, Lucille Anderson… ooh, is it this one? She is cute! You’re right, she is Jamaican, she’s from Kingston. Works at Poplar Library? Oooh, she did English Lit at UCL, she’s a clever bean. And one mutual friend! Delia Busby! How does she know her? We must ask her! But first…” she pressed the send friend request button. “Now to ask Delia!”

“Beatrix Franklin! You cannot just add people on Facebook like that! Not to mention that that’s probably a massive violation of my own privacy. I can’t believe you did that!” Val stuttered. “And for God’s sake, don’t ask Delia now, she’s probably really busy, they’re coming back today.”

“Too late, look, FaceTime is ringing. Don’t hang up, Val!” Trixie got up and ran off with the iPad, with Val in hot pursuit.

“BEATRIX! GIVE ME BACK MY IPAD OR I WILL…” Val shouted, only to be interrupted by Trixie.

“Ooh look, she’s answered. Hello Delia! Look, I have something to ask you quickly, I won’t bother you for long, do you know a Lucille Anderson who works at the library?”

“Well I’m fine thank you for asking, Trixie, we are at the airport,” answered Delia with a twinkle in her eye. “Yes, she took a parkour class with me once, her flatmate, Sybil, is in my club and she wanted to get her to try it, but she was useless, poor thing! She was absolutely petrified, was not one for climbing over urban obstacles and I bump into her from time to time. Why?”

“Well you see, Val met her when she was campaigning against the closing of the community centre, and she fancies the pants off her and we saw she was friends with you on Facebook...” Trixie was cut off by Patsy in the background, who had clearly not noticed that Delia had a FaceTime call active on her laptop, and gave Delia a quick peck.

“So I have got some macarons from the stand over there for my flatmates…” Patsy smiled at Delia “and for my gorgeous fiancée, of course, though if you want to eat theirs, I shan’t tell” she winked at Delia, and went in to kiss her again.

Trixie and Val looked at each other, then squealed. Patsy looked like she was about to jump out of her skin.

“What the hell??” The colour drained from Patsy’s face. “Damn, we were going to tell you face to face! There goes the big surprise…”

Delia squeezed Patsy’s shoulder affectionately. “We technically are telling them face to face, cariad. I imagine that this is also a good time to tell them that we are actually flying to Cardiff to tell my parents the good news, but we will be back in London tomorrow night.”

“Valerie, you owe me £20!” Smirked Trixie. “She thought Patsy wouldn’t have the bottle to ask again.”

“But I’m so glad she did! Delia, Patsy, that is absolutely wonderful news!” Val couldn’t get the grin off her face. “Tomorrow night, you’re coming over to dinner, Delia, so that you can celebrate with us all. I’ll cook, and we can even crack open that bottle of champagne!”

Delia looked at Patsy knowingly. “Well, about Pats asking… we kind of ended up asking each other… at the same time” she smiled, taking her fiancée’s hand and showing them both their respective engagement rings.

Trixie and Val squealed again, but they were interrupted by an airport announcement in French.

“That’s Air France announcing the gate, I’m sorry girls, we should get going. But I promise you will have all the details tomorrow night! Yes, Delia will come for dinner.” Patsy said apologetically, but she was still looking at Delia in absolute adoration. “We’ll speak soon”

“Go, go, go!” Val hurried them along. “Congratulations again! And Delia, engaged or not, if you eat my macarons, there will be hell to pay! Say hello to your parents, Delia, and have a safe flight”.

Val and Trixie waved them off, ended the call, and both sighed contentedly.

“Do you want another cup of tea?” asked Val.

“Ah, go on, then, that’ll be an appropriate toast for the time being.”

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little bit of a filler! Sorry for th delay, more to come soon ;)

Lucille collapsed onto her bed after having neatly put away her groceries. This morning had been embarrassing in more ways than one. She glanced at her hand. Yep. And slightly painful. She was looking forward to her day off.

She pulled her laptop out, and looked at her carefully bandaged hand as it switched on. Her mind idly wandered to the nurse who had so kindly fixed her up. Valerie. She really admired that woman. How kind of her to help her. And standing in the cold, doing something for her community that was good. And on top of that she was a nurse! Wow. That woman really was exceptional.

Lucille figured she should maybe share that petition on facebook while her mind was on it. As she opened the website, her breath caught and stomach flipped and suddenly began to feel very warm as she saw the notification – _1 new friend request: Valerie Dyer._

She clicked on the profile. Oh, _1 mutual friend_. Delia Busby. That was the girl from parkour, Sybil’s friend. She seemed lovely, came to the library sometimes and always had a bright smile and hello for Lucille. They didn’t really talk very much, though.

She accepted the request, then had a closer look. She had a degree in biomechanical engineering from Imperial?? Why was she a nurse? Click. Let’s have a look at her photos… Pictures of a Val always smiling up at her flooded her screen. Click. Val in Paris. Click. Val on a night out. Click. Val with friends. Click. Val eating an ice cream by the beach. Click. Val in Prague. Click. Val in her nurse’s scrubs…

Lucille shut her computer hastily. This was borderline stalking. No. She wasn’t going to do this. She took a deep breath, and opened her laptop again to look for the petition. I mean, she said she’d share it, right? Lucille was, after all, a woman of her word. But looking around the Internet, she couldn’t find it anywhere.

Oh no. What if Val was waiting for her to share it? She definitely didn’t want to disappoint her. Agh, what to do?

In a moment of brief bravado, Lucille opened up messenger:

“Hi Val, sorry to bother you. I can’t seem to find the link to the petition. Could you possibly send me it? Thanks.”

Lucille’s heart dropped as she sent the message. Agh. Was that too formal? Oh, she shouldn’t have sent it. Val would have forgotten all about her, anyway. It was madness to think that she’s sitting in front of her screen, waiting for her to do that. She had a life. And an incredibly interesting-sounding one, at that! She wished she could be like her.

Realising that she was making a mountain out of a mole-hill, Lucille went to switch the kettle on. The British had gotten one thing right, and that was their appreciation of tea. The food, not so much, but tea was incredibly comforting.

“Lucille, are you in?” Called Sybil, closing the front door behind her.

“In the kitchen!” Lucille shouted back.

Sybil scurried into the room, taking her jacket and scarf off, and dumping them unceremoniously on the back of a chair, grinning at Lucille.

“So, I have to tell you about last night!” Sybil paused, looking at Lucille. “Are you making a cuppa? Can I have one too, please?”

Lucille chuckled, and brought a second mug down from the shelf. “So, did you get with Mark in the end?”

Sybil smiled coyly. “Well, that is the thing… not quite. His cousin Tom was over from Dublin.”

Lucille’s face was a picture of disbelief. “WHAT? Sybil, you’re kidding me! You and Mark have been circling each other for months. Did he do something to hurt you? Mark? Do I need to have a word with him?”

Sybil chuckled. “Absolutely not. But I’ve been going off him for a while, you know that. And when we all went out last night, I really hit it off with Tom. We talked all night… then did a little more than talk, I stayed at his last night, and it was just an amazing night. He really knows what to do with his hands by the way, we…”

Lucille blushed. “I get the picture! Spare me the details, please!”

“All right, all right!” Sybil laughed outright. “God, Luce, you are such a prude. You should’ve come too, might have been a chance to get your freak on.” She teased.

“As if!” Lucille snorted. “Sybil, I love you, but you are what my mother would call a little troublemaker. I don’t think I have a ‘freak’ to get on.”

Sybil took Lucille’s hand.

“And that is why we love you, Luce, you are like a mother to us all. You know that,” she said emphatically. “But there comes a point where you have to be realistic. I know you’re not looking to have sex. If you’re not comfortable, you shouldn’t do it. But you also have to realise that there’s a reason they call it a fairytale romance- it just doesn’t exist in real life, and to chase that is just naïve. You won’t get a Prince Charming. It’s really unlikely that you’re going to get that. Just make the most of what you can get.”

Lucille put her mug down and nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure she could agree with everything that Sybil had said. She wasn’t naïve. She didn’t want a Prince Charming. She just wanted someone on the same page as her. All of her relationships previously had broken down, and only because she wasn’t ready to be intimate straight away. She was all for people doing it whenever they were both comfortable, and knew it was a bigger deal to some than others, and to her, it just seemed like quite a big step, to trust someone enough to take that next step. It wasn’t naïvety, just wanting to be in control of the situation and assured she was making the right choice. Her last relationship had shown her that this was the right choice… She wasn’t a prude. She furrowed her brow. She did love her flatmate but she was a little pushy and insensitive at times.

“I suppose so. Thank you, Sybil” she smiled. Just as she was about to continue, her phone pinged. “Oh, I should get that, excuse me a minute!”

Lucille hurried away, glad of an excuse to get out of what was probably going to be an awkward conversation.

And opening her phone, her heart skipped. It was Val! Oh gosh, what was she going to say?

“Hey, Lucille, it’s not a problem, thanks for getting in touch! Here is the link. Thank you so much for getting involved! Take care, and hope the hand is feeling alright :P”

Ok, Anderson. You can do this. Lucille sighed, and typed out a response.

“Thanks! The hand is fine, thank you very much for helping me today, it was very kind and you really didn’t have to. If there is anything I can do to help you, let me know!”

That was adequate, she felt. Not expecting a response, Lucille put her phone down and settled herself in an armchair with a book. Now THIS was the Saturday afternoon she felt she’d earned.

Her phone buzzed again. She tried to convince herself there was no way it was Val, but curiosity got the better of her and she dashed over to check. It was Val, indeed!

“Actually, there might be a way you could help…”

She was still typing. Agh. How could Lucille help? She definitely would! Would she get to see Val again? Why did she care so much about seeing Val again? Lucille stopped, and shook her head. Ah, she just really admired her community spirit. And her modesty. She wasn’t really nosy but she wanted to know why Val was so overqualified!

The phone buzzed again.

“Could I possibly leave a couple of flyers in the library? I know you have a little pamphlet shelf thing in there and if it is okay with you, you could let me know when is convenient for you, and I will drop them off then? :D”

Lucille grinned. She WOULD see Val again! Excellent.

“Of course you can do that, it isn’t a problem at all. I’m working 9am-5pm on Monday, the library closes at 7, though, so you can pop in any time! But I will be there 9 til 5. See you on Monday :)”

Val responded almost immediately.

“Perfect, thank you!! See you on Monday. Have a lovely day.”

And Lucille knew that it would indeed be a lovely day. She smiled. And so would Monday.


	4. Chapter 4

Val jumped as Patsy hammered on the bathroom door for what felt like the millionth time that afternoon.

“Val, get out of the bathroom, for God’s sake! I really need to wee!”

“Just a minute, Patsy!”

“You said that 10 minutes ago! Now, I’m sure you look phenomenal, but all you are doing is going to the library, it’s the end of the day and you said Lucille was only there til 5 so you need to get a move on! Honestly, what are you doing? Have you grown roots in there?”

Val blushed, as she smoothed her hair again, and opened the door for Patsy, who dashed in, hurried Val out and closed the door behind her.

Val leant against the door. And sighed, staying there for a little while.

“Patsy?” She whined.

“Can a girl not wee in peace?” Came the exasperated reply from inside the loo.

“What if she doesn’t like me?”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Patsy sighed. “Hang on a minute.”

Patsy opened the door and sat Val down on the sofa.

“Now, tell me what is worrying you, but quickly, mind you, because honestly, you might not make it on time if you don’t leave within the next 5 minutes.” Patsy’s gaze softened, remembering how helpful Val had been when she was trying to get with Delia. Oh how the roles had reversed.

“She’s just really pretty, and seems really clever, and sweet, and helpful, and just I don’t want to blow this.” Val slumped a little. “And honestly, I won’t have an excuse to talk to her after this, so I just don’t really want it to end.”

Patsy squeezed Val’s hand. “Now that is not the Valerie Dyer that I know. Now, I’m going to keep this brief, because you really need to go, but these things do have a way of sorting themselves out. That doesn’t mean that you get to be passive about this, but you can relax a bit. If worst comes to worst, you’ve had some interesting chats with an interesting woman, and you can know it isn’t going to work. But you don’t know until you try. I believe you told me that 5 years ago, with the infinite wisdom of someone who has been single a very long time! So go to the ruddy library, and tell Delia and I all about it when you get back!” Patsy smiled and hurried her along “Go! Go! Go!”

Val chuckled at her flatmate’s insistence, and headed out. Honestly, for all her scary looks, Patsy was a big softie at heart. Maybe Delia had helped with that, she mused. The two of them certainly made a fantastic couple (and a very good-looking one, too) and she was so excited to see them get married. They had so much ahead of them. She thought of the easy banter and badly concealed longing looks between the two of them, and her heart ached just a little. She wasn’t necessarily a huge romantic, and she didn’t believe in soulmates, but how she longed to have someone to talk to who was on the same page as her. A little companionship. Someone to admire. To speak to last thing at night and to wake up with first thing in the morning. And all the excitement that came with it all…

Val stopped in her tracks. Damn. She was there already. She looked up at the brutalist, grey concrete façade of the library. Yuck. It was perhaps not the most appealing place. But there certainly was an appealing person inside the building… She checked her watch. Oh dear, it was 4.45 already. She’d better get a move on.

Val felt like she was moving through treacle. The walk in seemed interminable, and she really was uncharacteristically nervous. She wiped her ridiculously sweaty palms on her jacket, and braved the front door.

As soon as she got in, she spotted Lucille Anderson, who was listening patiently to a tiny dark skinned, curly-haired girl who must have been 10 years old at most, who was animatedly showing her a book. Val put on her best approximation of a winning smile, and walked towards the information desk quietly.

“…and that’s Annabeth was my favourite character in Percy Jackson! She was so cool, and she bravely fought all those monsters, and she is so smart! I want to be an architect just like her. She has dyslexia like my friend Ruth, too. She reminds me of Ruth. Ruth is really brave and cool, too.” Val smiled as she listened to the little girl chatter to Lucille.

Lucille beamed at Val as she approached, and nodded to indicate she’d be with her in a second.

“Well, Lily, I am so, so glad that you liked the book. You know there’s more? If you look for Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monsters, on the same shelf as you found the first one, under R for Riordan, you should find it, it is the second one in the series, I tidied it away there just this lunchtime! I’ll return the first one for you, and you can go and pick that out if you want, and you can borrow it before I finish up for the day.” Lucille took the book from the excited little girl, who bounded off in pursuit of her next book.

“That is adorable!” Val whispered to Lucille. “You really have a knack with children!”

Lucille blushed a little. “Ah, Lily is an easy one to please. I’m not supposed to have favourites but Lily is definitely my favourite. She’s one of our top readers, she is very clever. She is in here every day after school at 3.30 sharp. Her mother is from Jamaica too, she goes to my church.” Lucille stopped herself. “Anyway, I am rambling, it is so nice to see you! You’re here about the leaflets?”

Val smiled, thinking that she actually really enjoyed listening to Lucille ‘ramble’. “Not to worry! Yes, I have them here, if that is ok? Thank you so much for taking them, I feel like people who use the library regularly might care about the community centre too.” She passed them over to Lucille, trying not to show that her breath caught just a fraction when their fingers brushed together.

“If you wait just a second, I’ll show you where I put them,” Lucille grinned as she saw Lily bound back to the desk. “Be careful, please, Lily! Remember that this is a library, you have to be as quiet as you can, and that means no running.”

“I’m really sorry, Miss Anderson! I wasn’t running, though, I was galloping. Like a centaur, like in the book! I am just so excited about this other book, I didn’t know there was more.” Lily gazed adoringly at Lucille as she scanned her library card and stamped the book, returning it to the child.

“So, you have this book for two whole weeks, Lily. I know you’ll be very careful with it. And, if I’m not mistaken, I can see your Mum is there at the door to pick you up? She’ll be here to take you home for dinner.”   
“Thank you again, Miss Anderson! I’ll see you tomorrow and maybe we can talk some more about the book?”

“Of course, Lily. I’m going to be away home soon for my dinner, too! Have a lovely evening.” Lucille said serenely as she waved the little girl off, who, of course, having already forgotten Lucille’s recommendation against running in the library, had sprinted (or galloped?) back to her mother already.

Val chuckled. “What a lovely little keen bean, you have there, Lucille. She seems to worship the ground you walk on.”

Lucille gathered her handbag and coat from behind the desk, and walked over to Val, laughing. “She is a jumping bean! But she is a good girl. I’m very glad to have a companion in the library! Here, let me pop my jacket on, and I will walk you out, I’m going home now too, and I’ll put the leaflets in the community stand on my way out.”

Val and Lucille walked in quiet companionship to the door, having put the leaflets down and neither quite knowing what to say to the other.

“Oh, cripes!” Exclaimed Val as they got to the door. It was absolutely bucketing it down with rain. “Just like me to forget to bring an umbrella, too! Bloody typical.” She admonished herself for being so stupid. This was Britain after all; when was she not going to need an umbrella?

Lucille scrambled in her handbag, producing a blue umbrella with an owl pattern on it. “You can share mine, if we are going the same way! In fact… no, never mind, you’re probably really busy and it is a silly idea.”

“What is it, Lucille?” Val furrowed her brow, but was internally giggling at Lucille’s hurry to help her. What a star.

“Just, there’s a café across the road, we could wait it out in there, if you don’t have anywhere to go! I would be happy to buy you a coffee and a slice of cake as a thank you for Saturday.” Lucille raised her bandaged hand, going a bit pink. “But I know you must be really busy, so it is okay if you don’t want to, I just thought…”

Val put her hand on Lucille’s arm, quieting her gently. She was cute when she was het up. Really cute. Oh dear. She didn’t really want to catch feelings, but she could not refuse an invitation that was so nicely extended.

“I would love to. That’s very kind.” She grinned impishly. “I can see the café. I’ll race you there?”

Lucille breathed out in relief. “Oh, thank you! And yeah, just…”

But Val had already bolted off into the pouring rain, laughing and looking back at Lucille.

“Come on, then!”

And that was an offer Lucille couldn’t refuse as she threw caution to the wind and ran after the tall nurse, squealing as the rain ran down her collar.

 


End file.
